Moon Dance
by PeascORNsprite
Summary: There was nothing more beautiful, Dean suddenly realized, than watching Castiel's fluid movements under the moonlight.


Title: Moon Dance

Author's Notes: Saw medicatedmaniac's art piece "Warrior of God" on DeviantArt, which gave me the idea for this fic. Listened to Seal's "Kiss from a Rose" on repeat as well while writing this; it just seemed to set the mood.

The woods had always been Dean's favorite place to come to when he needed peace. The nearest ones he could find were far enough off the highway that it would take nothing short of a forest ranger to find them, but luckily, he possessed an uncanny sense of direction.

He walked for a while, listening to the deep-throated hums of the tree frogs and the high-pitched tunes of the crickets. The smell of loam and fir trees was everywhere.

When he came over a small ridge, he was keenly aware of another creature in the clearing just beyond him. For a moment, he regretted leaving his gun in the car, but suddenly the brand on his shoulder tingled, and Dean knew the identity of the other.

He frowned, confused. What was Castiel doing in the middle of nowhere, with nothing evil on the radar for miles? As he came closer, however, he paused abruptly.

The angel's trench coat, dress shirt, and tie were folded in a neat pile on the forest floor, his shoes beside them, and then, Dean's breath caught in his throat.

Castiel's hand was wrapped around a long blade, the hilt made of pure gold. As Dean looked on, he realized that the angel was training himself for battle. He recognized the swift changes in his footwork all too well.

There was nothing more beautiful, Dean suddenly realized, than watching Castiel's fluid movements under the moonlight. He was struck by how the simple acts of thrust and parry were so much more than just ways to stay alive. The angel had turned them into a stunning, and subtly erotic, dance.

Dean crept closer, unable to gather the willpower to leave. He was shaken to the core at what he was witnessing.

For the first time, the man noticed how well-built Castiel truly was. His clothes had hidden it well, but now, Dean could clearly see the muscles in his back, arms, and abdomen, which contracted hypnotically with every step he took. A sheen of sweat coated his spine, and Dean had the sudden irresistible urge to lick it all away. Hastily, he backed away.

_Yeah, time to go._

"Dean."

The hunter stopped in his tracks, turning around slowly. He had been caught.

Leaning the weapon against a tall birch, Castiel met Dean's guilty gaze, stepping forward.

Now, the moonlight hit him straight on, and Dean was hard pressed to keep his jaw from dropping. Castiel appeared to be a god of old, come to protect the human race.

"Cas, I didn't realize you'd be…I'm sorry I was watching," he said softly. "I honestly didn't come here to spy on you."

The other being's response was unexpected. "Perhaps not, but it appears that you enjoyed it."

_Damn it. _"I—how can you tell?"

Castiel's blue eyes were breathtaking, and deeply sensual.

"I can hear your heartbeat. It's accelerated within the span of time we've been talking, and your body is trembling."

Dean couldn't stop the surprised gasp that left his lips when Castiel gently pushed him against a nearby cedar tree, pinning his arms above his head. Left with nowhere to look but directly into the angel's eyes, Dean swallowed hard at what he saw there.

"If you desire me so greatly," Castiel said quietly, "you shall have me."

Before Dean could say anything else, the angel bent his head, laying his lips to his in a gentle kiss.

Dean had made out with a few guys in his lifetime, but this was different. For one thing, Castiel wasn't a human male, and for another, he'd never had any kiss, from anyone, send such a raging fire coursing through his blood.

Dean could smell the angel: a mixture of clean sweat, fresh mountain air, and something he could only describe as akin to spearmint leaves. The heady combination was driving him wild, and almost without his knowledge, he let out a soft whine.

Castiel pulled back slightly, murmuring into Dean's ear in Enochian.

"_Daxil ialpon."_

Dean groaned. Now, more than ever, he appreciated Bobby's insistence that he learn the archaic language.

"What do you need from me?" Castiel's voice was a deep, terribly arousing rumble.

Dean twisted against the angel when his lack of an answer initiated a sharp nip to his collarbone. "Cas," he begged. "Please…I want you to love me. _Please_."

In an instant, the heavenly being had them on the ground amidst the green leaves. When Dean leaned up, Castiel unbuttoned his shirt, sliding it off, where it lay forgotten, and then he straddled the hunter, thighs positioned on either side of Dean's hips.

Dean drank in the sight of Castiel's strong body until he was overwhelmed with the need to touch. Carefully, he ran his hands over the angel's chest, finding the resulting shiver Castiel gave gratifying. When Dean's fingers trailed down his abdomen, the muscles quivered beneath his touch as Castiel fought to control himself.

A hand suddenly closed over the angel's mark on his shoulder, squeezing tightly, and a soft cry fled Dean's throat at the sweet, slow pleasure that slipped through his veins. Hovering above him, Castiel whispered, "I have long waited for this. From the moment I pulled you from Perdition, you have been mine, and mine alone."

Castiel's lips once again met his, and Dean lost himself in their shared passion. Hours passed before their bodies would no longer obey them.

Listening to Dean's rapid heartbeat slow as he lay curled within the shelter of his wings, Castiel closed his eyes. If he had harbored any doubts that his Father still cared, they no longer existed.

One could not look upon Dean Winchester and dispute the existence of God.

_**Daxil ialpon _= _thy loins burn_.**


End file.
